


Lions, Monsters, Vampires, and Panthers, Oh My

by orphan_account



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Unbeta'd, in case some of you are queasy with gore i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura’s life has been pretty average… at least for a vampire.  She has yet to decide if the unexpected arrival of something/someone is welcomed or not.  monster!Carmilla and vampire!Laura AU inspired by artwork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://adamantred.tumblr.com/post/130100312105/how-long-until-this-turns-into-an-au-ft) by adamantred on tumblr.

          It doesn’t matter that the moon is merely a thin crescent; she’ll argue that her eyesight is better at night than during the day. She moves through the tall grass with extreme ease and continues westward. She’s walked this path so often she could probably do it with her eyes closed. She doesn’t try though because she’s almost to her destination. She purposefully leans into a couple shoots and breaks them. The loud _snap_ does its job – numerous warning rumbles sound from her left.

          When Laura comes to a clearing with a couple acacia trees, one corner of her lips lift up in a smirk. Really, they’re so predictable. Or maybe it’s her inherent ability to always know where they are. She stands still, watching as one lioness approaches her, identifies her as a familiar. She meets the gaze of a single male defiantly, causing him to toss his mane about and grumble aggressively. She knows her eyes – with their reddish hue – makes him and the other lions uncomfortable. After a few seconds, she turns away and trots to follow the departing lionesses. Typical males, she sniffs. Always so lazy and overly possessive of their dominant status. She hears him rise and knows he’ll be following them from a far distance, content to watch the lionesses do all the work.

          There’s a new female, making the group a total of eleven – smaller than the average pride. Judging by the scent of some of the females though, they’ll be mating with the male soon and the family will be busy with newborns. Over the years, Laura has been able to communicate with them, roughly translating their various sounds into English equivalents in her mind. She once tried with a street cat and almost gave it a heart attack.

          She’s been with this particular pride for around five years and while there’s been three different males, the females have remained the same. She wheedled the name out of a couple of them. For example, the oldest female who typically takes charge is Mairsile. A few of the other females are her daughters. Then there’s Wokabi. She’s definitely Laura’s favorite. Wokabi is in her physical prime and extremely skilled at hunting. While general serious in nature, she’ll occasionally interact with Laura. It’s difficult because there is such a variety of sounds they use: roars, grunts, snarls, growls, purrs, meows, hums, moans, and puffs. It’s certainly quenched her thirst for a challenge.

          Laura joins Mairsile at the front and matches her step for step silently. She checks the air every so often by opening her mouth halfway and letting the different scents hit the roof of her mouth. Due to her other… condition, everything about her, both physically and mentally, is increased. Her senses are sharper, her strength stronger, and her intelligence greater. Kinda the super-lion, in her opinion. However, even these tolerant lions would freak if she were to suddenly run at the speed of a cheetah and take down a buffalo by herself (something she could absolutely do). And the whole point of joining a pride is to blend with the animal kingdom and not raise any suspicions – human or animal. So, she lags behind sometimes or lets another lioness do the honors with the killing bite.

          Mairsile leads them to a popular, large watering hole and they split up, taking up positions around it. Laura plants herself among a thick patch of grasses and settles down to wait. If she looks hard enough, she can just barely make out where the other lionesses are. Broken pieces of the grass poke into her soft belly, but she ignores it. When Wokabi settles a few feet away, Laura bobs her head in greeting. These stakeouts take hours sometimes, so she entertains herself by naming every country’s capital she can think of.

          She’s on Port Vila, Vanuatu when there’s the faintest sound of _something_ to her right. It was a quiet enough sound that the others didn’t hear it. She turns her head in the direction – flicking her notched ear casually – and scans the horizon. She can’t see perfectly atop the grasses and shrubs since she’s lying low, but she squints – a decidedly non-lion action – anyway. It takes her several seconds of hard looking before she spots them. The tips of what appear to be two curved horns. They’re at a level that don’t extend beyond the height of the grasses. Laura isn’t sure what kind of animal they’re attached to – she’s familiar with almost every type of animal known. They’re similar to the horns found on an addax, but there are two discrepancies: addax are only native to the Sahara Desert, and Laura’s currently in Tanzania. Lions don’t exactly thrive in sand and no shade. The other issue is that the horns she’s seeing are much shorter and thicker than addaxes’.

          Dense clouds suddenly cover the moon and she props herself up on her forelegs to see the horns better, but it’s useless. Even in the dark and with her superb eyesight, the horns have disappeared. Her brows furrow and she wonders if she had imagined the whole thing.

          One of the lionesses huff at her, curiosity shining in her eyes. She looks and sees she has all of their attention. It’s clear they’re wondering if she’s spotted prey. Laura grunts low and soft, sinking back to the ground. They return their scrutiny elsewhere. Laura thinks about the horns. She ponders on the possibility of a new animal species or… a new creature altogether. She and her kind were just myths to the humans for the longest time, after all. She wouldn’t be surprised if werewolves turned out be real. Though that would surely pose some issues; werewolves were supposedly mortal enemies of vampires. She wouldn’t know, since the wolves have yet to reveal themselves. For now, vampires enjoy their position at the top of the food chain.

          She’s running through all the mythological creatures she knows when the distinct soft padding of hooves reach her ears. Laura turns her head slowly and spies a large group of wildebeest. All of them are adults and they’re approaching on the opposite side of the watering hole from her. A few drift off and meander towards her. She locates Mairsile across the water and waits for her to begin the ambush. With the wildebeest in two groups and the lionesses spread, Laura knows there will be two attacking parties. She shifts minutely, crouching low and bunching her muscles.

          She’d somehow inherited or developed the extreme patience that lions naturally have when she had first begun her shifting. Prior to that, she had been very pro-active  and somewhat impatient.  The shifting had started a few years after she’d been turned into a vampire. She’d drained the blood of a rather suspicious man and blacked out soon after. She’d woken up in a back alley to large tan paws, long tail, and a massive headache. She’d dodged the authorities and found an abandoned building where she stayed and freaked out until she shifted back to her vampiric self. _That_ had been a grating experience – literally. Her bones had grinded against one another, changing shape and size until she was human-like.

          Since then, the shifting process has become much smoother. She hardly registers the pain now and can change at will, though she only does so when the craving for fresh, raw meat becomes too much. In all honesty, the Twilight movies depicted the shifting process pretty well. Better than any other show or movie she’s seen.

          She spies Mairsile tensing and when the lioness charges from her hiding spot, Laura does the same, aiming for the wildebeest closest to her and Wokabi. The watering hole erupts into chaos. She dodges the horns on the wildebeest when he turns on her, giving one other lioness the opportunity to attack him from the flank. Laura scrambles to the side and when the antelope begins to flee, she gives chase.

          Wokabi is ahead by a foot and reaches with both front paws. Laura watches as those deadly claws latch on for a moment, creating deep gashes on wildebeest’s side. His bleating falls on deaf ears as another lioness – the new one – comes out of nowhere with alarming speed and jumps onto his back. She immediately sinks her teeth into his withers and Laura doesn’t hesitate when she locks onto one of his flailing legs and pulls, hard. He falls on his side, dislodging the other lioness. Another female goes for his neck, but one of his hooves catches her on the side and she snarls, backing away.

          The wildebeest rights himself and takes off, but his back leg is dragging and it’s easy for Wokabi to run alongside him. Laura flanks him and together they converge on him. Both their weight and strength are enough to force him to stumble and trip. Three other lionesses join them and simultaneously, they kill him. The new lioness is at his jugular and her teeth are sunk deep.

          Laura backs away to put space between herself and the crowd, and checks on the other group of lionesses. Mairsile is already tearing into their meal.

          A low snarl announces the pride male’s arrival. He saunters close to the wildebeest she and her group just took down, his black-tinted mane bouncing with each step. Laura sits off to the side as he rips into the stomach. Figures that he’d go for the best part.

          She sits and waits. Both antelope are large and will be enough for them all.

          She doesn’t have to wait long. The male eats his fill quickly and after growling at them and rushing at a few, he pads to the water. Laura approaches, rumbling the entire time and takes her first bite. It’s of the flank so it’s a bit tough, but her incisors allow her to chew it with relative ease. As the taste floods her taste buds, she moans with satisfaction. She tears into the carcass with vigor, mindless to the other lionesses she bumps into.

          Wokabi hears them first. She snarls loudly, a slight fearful edge to it which leads Laura to believe it’s not due to another lioness encroaching on her food. She follows the light-creamed female’s gaze and pricks her ears forward. It’s a motor – most likely a late night safari group come to take pictures. She turns away, but realizes her mistake when gunshots slice the otherwise quiet night.

          She lurches into motion, following her fellow felines as they scatter. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees one stumble; must’ve been grazed. She hesitates for a second and that’s all it takes. Two bullets lodge into her body and while they cause blood to start staining her fur, they aren’t wooden so she continues fleeing unhindered. She veers away from the pride and ducks behind a clump of savanna shrubs. There’s no way she’d be able to escape the vehicle without raising suspicions. She lies hidden for a while until even she can’t hear the engine anymore.

          Deeming it safe enough to move again, Laura heads east, at a slightly-faster-than-normal pace. Twenty minutes later, her paws touch asphalt and she retracts her claws. She calls loudly – a mix between a roar and a meow – and a person with short red hair steps out of the shack. “Laura, you’re back! And bleeding. I’ll go get my med kit.”

          Laura huffs and follows them inside. The individual, LaFontaine, is a friend of hers. They’re currently a resident at a biomedical hospital in Styria – the main reason she decided to bring them and disclose her secret. She prefers to keep the number of people who know about her… alternative lifestyle to a minimum.

          She’s sitting on a cot when LaFontaine returns, white box in hand. “What the hell happened?” They snap on gloves and pick up a pair of surgical tweezers.

          Laura grumbles and lies on her side. They make a _tsk_ -ing sound and set to work. “Bullets? I don’t think I even want to know.”

          Laura grits her teeth when they use the tweezers and attempt to remove the first bullet. It’s not painful, but not exactly comfortable either. She equates it to drinking cold or lukewarm blood. She closes her eyes and waits for the inevitable _clink_ of the bullet being placed in the metal container. A minute later, she hears it and sighs when the tweezers leave her wound. With the bullet gone, her body begins healing itself and LaFontaine starts in on the other. It’s lodged in her thigh and when they dig around for it, her leg twitches. She focuses on breathing slow and deep.

          “All done,” they exclaim, tossing the bloodied gloves in a trashcan.

          Laura sighs and places a large paw on their arm in thanks. LaFontaine stands and begins cleaning up the medical equipment. “Your clothes are in the bathroom, Laura.”

          She trots to the large side room and pushes the door shut with her head. She focuses hard and allows the shift to take over. The process is quick and after a couple seconds, she’s standing up, naked. Her modesty’s long gone, lost after she turned. Laura puts on the matching, lacy bra and underwear, running her fingers over the short, black strapless dress. She nods in approval at LaFontaine’s choice; it’s her favorite after all. She wiggles into the tight dress and slips on the black heels.

          Sitting down on the chair in front of the mirror, she starts carefully applying her makeup. Black lipstick and mascara with light eyeshadow. She’s recently been going through a “goth” phase as the teenagers would say. But honestly, black goes with everything and she looks damn good wearing it. She runs a hand through her honey brown hair, but that’s all she’s going do. It’s naturally wavy and she doesn’t feel like straightening it.

          She takes stock of herself, specifically the healed wounds. Lifting the hem of her dress a little, she feels it. It’s nearly completely healed. Another five minutes and there’ll be no trace of it. That’s one perk of being such an old vampire – her healing speed is extremely fast. There’s no need to check the one under her ribs. She stares at her face in the mirror, tracing her nose line and taking in her red eyes. They had darkened to a deep crimson since her shift from the lion. Her skin is _not_ a pasty pale like they show in the movies. While she admittedly doesn’t have a golden, Californian tan, her skin does have a nice healthy bronze hue.

          Before opening the door, she fastens her necklace on. When she returns to the main room, LaFontaine is reading a large textbook and the room is spotless. “Ready, Laura?” they ask.

          She grins. They stand and lead the way to the hanger. Her private jet – hell, the whole place is private – is waiting with the stairs brought down. The pilot and attendant, both men and human, are standing at the bottom. “Welcome back, Miss Hollis,” greets the pilot.

          “Thanks, Gerald. Hope the extra hard Sudoku book I got you kept you busy.”

          “It did, ma’am, thank you.”

          She accepts the attendant’s hand as she takes the first step up the stairs. “Thank you, Mark.” The help is unnecessary, but she appreciates the gesture.

          Once she is seated in a booth and buckled in, Gerald’s voice sounds over the speakers. “Please fasten your seatbelts. This is pilot Gerald Warner, checking in for the flight from Eastern Tanzania to Styria, Austria. Ready to begin takeoff.”

          LaFontaine is seated in a separate booth, book opened again. Laura braces herself for the takeoff, but she needn’t have bothered. It’s smooth and when they reach elevation, she dozes off, feeling very satisfied with the night’s activities.

* * *

 

          The club, Silas, is busy and absolutely packed when Laura surveys it from her vantage point on the top level. It’s a popular club – _her_ club and one of the biggest in Styria. She’d founded it hundreds of years ago before vampires were exposed to the human population. At the time, it’d been only for vampires, an escape for them to get away from the humans and mingle with their own kind. But several years ago, when it was made public that vampires were real, she’d decided to make some changes.

          When humans finally got over their fear and wariness of vampires, the two species began mixing together. It had been inevitable that a human would be bitten. What hadn’t been expected however, was the series of events that followed. Humans discovered that they were immune to the venom in vampires’ fangs. They discovered that having their blood drunk was akin to smoking two _fat_ blunts. They discovered that having a relationship with a vampire was possible. Vampires discovered that humans liked having their blood drunk, providing an easy means to quench their thirst. They discovered that humans, while often petty and shallow, could also be a source for fun for a night. They discovered that coming out to the world had not been a bad decision.

          So, Laura had opened her club to humans, twenty-one and older. The next month, her business consultant and longtime friend, Matska Belmonde had informed her that Silas’ income had doubled. With more people visiting her club, she’d increased security and set some ground rules. Over the years, humans and vampires have come to respect, fear, and admire her. Humans know not to get too rowdy and vampires know not to cause any trouble.

          She spots a clump of redheads by the bar and smiles. She can always count on her friends showing up every night. She takes her time making her way down the stairs and weaving past the people. The vampires seem almost attuned to her presence and are kind enough to allow her an extra few inches of space. The music is loud and the bass thumps so hard she can feel the vibrations in her chest. Adjusting her dress so it doesn’t accidently slide down and she flashes everyone her tits, Laura finally reaches her friends.

          She taps the shoulder of the tallest one and before she can even say “Guess who,” she’s lifted up a few inches off the ground and crushed in a tight hug. Danny Lawrence is lucky Laura’s a vampire; any human would have broken a rib from the force of that embrace! “Laura!” she yells over the music.

          Laura can hear her friend just fine, but smiles nonetheless. “Danny! What if I had been some stranger? You really shouldn’t go around just hugging people.”

          “Then I’d be hugging a stranger. How are you?”

          “Still the same the last time you asked me,” she replies cheekily.

          “That was yesterday, though. Something exciting or terrible could have happened in the past twenty-four hours.”

          Laura considers mentioning getting shot twice, but she hasn’t told Danny about the whole lion thing – no one except LaFontaine and Matska really know. “Same old, same old, Danny.”

          “Laura!” Lola Perry stumbles forward and the vampire gracefully catches and rights her curly haired friend. “Oops, thanks for that.”

          Laura rolls her eyes. Every Friday, Lola lets loose and gets wasted. “The best way to reward myself after a long week of hard work,” she’d once told Laura. She failed to see the pleasure in waking up with a pounding headache every Saturday morning, though. To each their own, she supposes.

          “Are you feeling okay? You’re looking a little pale. Have you fed recently?”

          “Yes, Per. Just before I came here, actually.”

          “Oh? Do you have a side feed we don’t know about?” LaFontaine asks, smirking widely.

          Laura glares and refuses to answer. Instead, she snaps her fingers at the bartender who stops his conversation with another customer and swiftly asks her, “What can I get you, Miss Hollis?”

          “A round of top-shelf vodka for my friends here, and a shot of A negative for myself.”

          “Right away, Miss Hollis.”

          She turns to Danny and raises her eyebrows. “Yes?”

          “Do you have someone that you’re seeing? We’re your friends; you’re supposed to tell us _everything_ , including potential date material.”

          Laura shoves her lightly. “I’m not seeing anyone. If I were, I’d tell you – all of you. Besides, I’m not really looking to date. I’m – ”

          “Too busy running the club, we know,” LaFontaine finishes.

          The shots arrive and Laura is relieved. They cheers “to friends!” and Laura savors the aftertaste of her shot, laughing at the redheads wincing from the alcohol. The sound of flesh hitting flesh reaches her ears and she turns to see some commotion by the front door of the club.

          She leaves with a “be right back” to her companions and heads towards the gathering crowd. A tan, muscular man is fighting with her head of security, Wilson Kirsch. “Mr. Straka, Kirsch.”

          She doesn’t raise her voice, but there’s no need. Theo Straka, banned troublemaker vampire, heard her and wisely halted his movements. Kirsch is still on the defensive, belatedly noticing her presence. “Little boss hottie, Mr. Straka tried to come in again.”

          Laura feels the inside of her cheek twitch at Kirsch’s inability to address her appropriately. Unfortunately, he’s grown on her and she can never bring herself to tell him otherwise. Schooling her features into that of the elegant, powerful, and respected owner of Silas (and the vampire community), Laura takes a few steps towards Theo. “I believe I’ve already told you that you’re no longer welcomed here, Mr. Straka. So what, might I ask, are you doing here, in my club?”

          She fixes him with a narrowed gaze and takes delight in seeing the man rub at his wrist, a sign that he’s nervous.

          “Well, Miss Hollis. You see, it’s my buddy’s birthday and I didn’t want to miss it, being his big hundredth and all.”

          “That’s a pathetic excuse if I’ve ever heard one. This is your final warning. If I see you in my club again, it may just be your last night out.” Without breaking eye contact, she orders Kirsch to escort Theo out of the building. On her way back to the top floor, she pours herself another shot of A negative. Sometimes, she wishes she weren’t so nice.

          Leaning against the railing, she surveys the people. There are so many and if her high-powered air conditioning unit wasn’t on full power, she’s sure that the humans would pass out from heat stroke.

          The song switches to a popular dubstep remix and she bobs her head to the beat. The DJ switches on the strobe lights and the club is pitch black except for the intermittent blinding lights flashing. Everyone seems to be having a good time. A waiter brings her another shot of A negative. Vampires can’t get drunk, but they can have a blood buzz – an extreme feeling similar to an alcoholic buzz from drinking high-quality blood. The A negative she’s been drinking is the best stuff in town.

          It happens before the drop of the song’s beat. The strobe lights are flashing, she’s feeling the blood buzz, and a few of the humans are jostling her. She has to squint and even then, she wonders if she’s seeing things.

          There’s a girl standing amid the mass of people on the ground floor. Laura knows it’s a girl because the shoulders don’t have the broad-like quality men typically possess. She can only see the girl from the waist up, but that’s fine because the most interest parts are on her head. She’s wearing horns that look so familiar that Laura wants to hit her head in hopes of jogging her memory. The girl also has a rather sinister looking skull that covers the top half of her face. The skull looks like that of big cat predator, which sends shivers down Laura’s spine.

          The girl seems to be looking off to the side, but when the beat is accelerating, she turns so she’s facing Laura. It’s creepy, since Laura can’t see the girl’s eyes so she’s not even sure if it’s her she’s looking at. A second later, the beat drops and the lights go out. The music is still playing and the people screaming and dancing, but the strobe lights cut off.

          Laura doesn’t even think as she sails over the railing and by lucky chance doesn’t crush anyone. With her night vision – courtesy of her feline side – she pushes people out of the way until she’s standing at the spot the girl was just seconds ago. She turns her head left and right, but there’s no trace of the girl. Laura shakes her head and decides she’s lost her mind. Too much getting shot at, too many A negative shots, and too much sensory overload with the music, surrounding bodies, stench of body odor (she needs to install air freshener sprays on the ceiling).

          Just as she’s about to retire to her office for a breather, a light catches her eye. Strange, since the strobe lights – and all lights sources for that matter – still seem to be malfunctioning. Laura turns and watches as a tiny, glowing butterfly flutters about in a tight space. Perplexed and curious, she reaches a hand out. It flaps its wings towards her, and really she must be blood buzzed because it seems like the butterfly is growing brighter as it nears her. Then, it touches her and explodes into light particles, the strobe lights come back on, and the people roar, thinking the whole black out had been planned.

          Laura looks around her and wonders what the hell just happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys! I was super inspired by adamantred’s artwork on tumblr, so here’s a new story! It’s not going to be too long, I don’t think. But I do have a little plot in mind. I love hollstein and have already written a story for them, so why not do this too. Hope I do them and the art justice! Please share with the other creampuffs! xoxo. Lion info found off the internet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two months later**

 

          “No thank you,” Laura declines the proffered shot glass. Ever since that night in the club, she’s been careful not to have too many shots of A negative. It’s not that she’s scared of the blood buzz; she just prefers to be of sound mind if she ever sees the girl again.

          Speaking of which, it’s been two months and Laura hasn’t seen the girl or horns again. It only supports her rational idea that she hadn’t actually seen anything. Despite that, the irrational part of her refuses to agree. The incident with the strobe lights had been real and too abnormal for it to have been just a trick of her mind. The butterfly thing had also been beyond strange.

          She is broken out of her thoughts by the ice cold feeling of a spilt drink hitting her right arm and trickling down. She feels it bleed through her dress some, as well. Laura stamps down the flash of anger and takes a deep breath.

          “Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry, Miss Hollis. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

          She turns and finds her looking into the rather petrified face of a female human. She’s young and the man she’s with is surprisingly a human. Often, the pairings in the club are vampire-human.

          Laura smiles tightly and in a voice that leaves no room for argument suggests, “How about you pay me for the dress while you’re at it?”

          The young woman visibly swallows and Laura almost takes pity on her. Almost. She has a reputation to uphold and a sad, scared little girl won’t change that. The human nods vigorously and Laura has to work to hide her triumphant smile. She doesn’t take pleasure in being mean or manipulative, but she does feel a little giddy when she does something she normally wouldn’t – such as hustling a simple human.

          “Great. I’ll have one of my employees take down your information so we can contact you soon.”

          She swings around and heads to the back of the club to her office. The deafening music dims considerably when she closes the door, though the pulsations of the bass still remain. She opens the wardrobe sitting against the wall and picks out a black cocktail dress. It will have to do. She changes and proceeds to return to the main section of the club.

          However, low voices catch her attention and she locates a man and woman – both vampires – sitting at a booth in the corner. Laura hears the woman mention “a rather peculiar specter with horns” and then she’s approaching the pair. The man speaks first.

          “Good evening, Miss Hollis. This is Alina Klimov, a friend of mine visiting from Russia. My name is Thomas Lancey. I recently moved to Styria and Ian Mallard recommended your club.”

          Laura smiles politely, shaking both of their hands. It’s expected for a new vampire to name his or her connections to her upon first meeting. She remembers Ian fondly – private investigator of sorts and a good conversationalist.

          “Hello Ms. Klimov and Mr. Lancey. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Pardon my interruption, but I overheard Ms. Klimov talking about a “specter?”

          The blond Russian shifts in her seat to allow Laura to join them. “Yes, that is correct.”

          “I’ve had a similar encounter and was hoping you could tell me more of yours?”

          “Of course. I live in one of the smallest towns in Russia: Severomorsk. It’s about three hours east of Norway. Very rural and lots of tundra and land. A week ago, I was on my way to the closest airport and whilst I was driving, I looked to my right. There were no trees, just flat land and I was about two hours from Severomorsk. It was foggy as it often is. I saw a girl – perhaps eighteen or nineteen – just standing in the middle of the field. It’s very cold up north and she didn’t seem to be wearing a thick winter jacket. I couldn’t see her face because she was looking away from me. But I saw two horns sticking up from her head. They must’ve been some sort of costume ornament because what else could it be? I couldn’t tell much else because the fog grew very dense around me and I was forced to stop my car. I waited for it to lessen and when it did, she was gone. I only saw her for three seconds before the fog covered her. That’s all.”

          Laura frowns. It _sounds_ like it could be her girl – well, not her girl, her girl – and if she’s being honest with herself (always), it has the potential to turn into a myth buster kind of thing. She can picture it now: she flies out to the tundra fields in Russia and looks for signs of a specter. It reminds her of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s story _The Hound of Baskervilles_.

          “Did you happen to notice if she was wearing a skull?”

          Alina pinches her nose in mild horror. “A skull? If she was, I didn’t see. She had her back to me.”

          “Alright, well. Thank you very much for telling me that. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. Lancey and Ms. Klimov.” Laura stands and turns to leave.

          “Oh, Miss Hollis, wait!”

          She raises an eyebrow. Alina presses a hand low on her back and guides them close to the mass of people singing and dancing to the music. She crowds Laura’s personal space and drops her voice so that Laura has to strain to hear. “There is one other thing, but I did not want to say where Ian might overhear. When I was looking at the girl, I felt as if someone was watching me. As if someone knew exactly what I was doing. It caused goosebumps on my body and it was one of the scariest moments of my long life, if only because I had no idea what was happening. I felt like a mouse trapped in a maze with the possibility of a trap around each corner.”

          Laura’s brow furrows and thinks that if anyone hears them, they’ll probably laugh at the utter absurdity the Russian is spouting. However, she is Laura Hollis and takes Alina seriously. “Thank you, Ms. Klimov.”

          “May I ask why you are so interested in this… phenomenon?”

          “Let’s just say I’ve been looking for a new hobby and I think I’ve just found it. Have a good night, Ms. Klimov.”

          Laura makes for the back of the club and out the door, covering a yawn. She starts up her modest four-door sedan and drives home, intent to start her research immediately. However, things don’t go as planned; she strips off her clothes and passes out on her bed minutes later.

* * *

 

          Her phone is ringing somewhere. She groans and sits up, swatting at the clump hair in her mouth. The sun is streaming through the thin cracks of her blinds. Her phone goes silent, but a second later it starts ringing again.

          Mumbling under her breath, she stands up and follows the sound. It’s lurking inside her purse, but finally she picks it up and connects the call. “Hello?”

          “Laura, darling. Where are you? Did you forget we’re having brunch together and going over ideas for the business?” It’s Matska.

          She claps a hand on her forehead, “Crap, I’m sorry, Mattie. I fell asleep as soon as I got home and _just_ woke up.”

          “The years are finally catching up to you, you old hag,” Matska chuckles. “So, shall we take a raincheck? You didn’t immediately offer to come straight over.”

          Her friend is observant and Laura feels chagrined at being called out. “Yes, please. I have some business to attend to. I’ll call you when I’m free.”

          “Fine, fine. It’ll give me some more time to tweak a few things. Ciao, Laura.”

          She ends the call and opens a new bottle of blood. It’s in a wine bottle – vampires find it ironic that red wine has a similar color to blood. She pours some in a glass and takes it with her to her computer desk. Pulling up the internet, she searches for “girl with horns.”

          Google spits out some… interesting images, but it’s not what she’s looking for. She tries several combinations with keywords such as “horns,” “specter,” “girl,” “abnormal,” “creepy,” and even “paranormal.” Several hours have passed and to no avail.

          In one last attempt, she scours the top news sites for anything out of the ordinary. She’s just about to give up when one article title catches her eye. “ _Five Grizzlies Dead: Are Hunters to Blame?_ ” The publishing date states that it was reported yesterday.

          Intrigued, Laura clicks the link and begins reading the article.

 

          “ ** _Idaho City_** _– Reports from park rangers at Boise National Forest were alarmed and unsettled by the most recent events. Five adult, male Grizzly bears were found deep within the forest, dead._

_Clint Jones was the first to discover them. He was hunting elk when he stumbled upon the scene. ‘I wasn’t having any luck at my usual hunting spot, so I decided to move around. I was real far in the woods; I don’t think anyone’s ever gone as far as I was. I smelt something awful and I know what dead animals smell like. I kept walking towards it and came to a clearing, right. And there they were. Five huge, big brown bears. Grizzlies are real vicious if angered. They were real dead, too. Flies everywhere. I had to cover my nose, the smell was so bad. I went to look at them because five males in the same spot never happens. They’re loners, grizzlies. I moved them a little with my gun to make sure. There were some tufts of their fur scattered about, like something caught on them and tore it out. But that’s not the weirdest thing. Each of them had two big holes in them, like they were pricked by horns.’_

_I asked Jones what sort of animal had horns that would do that. He said, ‘Animals with horns are usually grass-eaters, like elk and moose. Except they don’t have the kind of horns that could have done that. And they would never attack a bear. They’re flighty creatures – they’d run before they fight. There’s a lot of animals with horns, but none that would be in this area. Gazelle, antelope, they all have horns but they’re out in Africa. I have no idea what could have made those holes in the bears, but you can be certain they died slowly.’_

_While talking with the head park ranger, I asked if something like this has ever happened. He said ‘never in my whole life’ and that they have not ruled out foul play as a cause. The investigation is ongoing and the officials have promised to let us know when they know more_.”

 

          Laura taps her fingers on the desk, thinking. She hasn’t seen the horned girl for two months and now in the span of twenty-four hours, she’s learned of two recent, strange encounters other people have had in the past week. She knows it’s preposterous and borderline crazy, but she thinks it’s a sign. Being a vampire, she’s more open to believing the unbelievable. After all, vampires were just a myth to humans and look how that ended.

          “Fuck it,” she breathes and picks up her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reaches Ian Mallard.

          “Hello?”

          “Ian, hi. It’s Laura Hollis. How are you?”

          “Miss Hollis, a lovely surprise. I’m well, thank you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

          “I’m hoping you can get me an address of someone.” She’s positive he’ll do it. He owes her after she helped him out of an unfortunate situation involving a three ex-girlfriends. Vampires hold grudges like no one else.

          “Of course. Give me a moment to get to my desk.”

          Laura walks to her room and flops down on it, phone on speaker. She doesn’t wait long.

          “Alright, do you have a name?”

          “Yes, Clint Jones. Lives somewhere near Idaho City, Idaho. He’s a hunter, recently involved with discovering five grizzly bears in the woods. That’s all I know.”

          “Oh, I heard about that on the news. Styria News mentioned it briefly but didn’t do a full report on it. I’ll see what I can find and text you when I find something.”

          “I appreciate it, Ian.”

          “It’s the least I can do after you helped me. Have a good day, Miss Hollis.”

          Laura hangs up and rolls around in her bed. She’s not sure why she’s so fixated on this girl, following any possible leads. Perhaps it’s partly due to her desire for finding out the truth, getting to the bottom of things. Or maybe it’s boredom finally settling in after five hundred years of eternity and she really is picking up a new hobby. Whatever the reason, she won’t stop until she figures out just what and _who_ this girl with the horns is.

          She texts her pilot to be on standby because if Ian Mallard is anything, it’s fast and efficient. He’ll deliver the address within a few hours. In the meantime, she needs to pass the time. Laura spends ten minutes playing the game 1010! on her phone (ironically), before she flings it away with a frustrated sigh. She feels like a child, so restless and antsy.

          Three hours later, she’s lounging under the covers with her laptop on her stomach, absolutely captivated. She’s binge-watching TED talks online and is truly impressed by some of the speakers. She’s got to hand it to them; they know how to capture an audience. Her phone rings and she almost throws the Macbook off the bed in her haste.

          “Hello?”

          “Miss Hollis, it’s Ian. I’ve got the address. 123 East Walulla Street, Idaho City.”

          “Thank you very much, Ian. I’ll talk to you later.”

          Laura bounces on her bed. She has a trip to the United States of America to prepare for.

* * *

 

          As she walks towards the house, she feels rather exhilarated. Before she was turned into a vampire, Laura wanted to become a journalist. It’s almost as if she’s finally doing it – interviewing people and doing all she can to discover the truth.

          She knocks four times on the wooden door and runs a hand through her hair. She’s dressed casually – no need to wear fancy dresses, she’s not in Austria and she’s not playing Laura Hollis owner of club Silas – in forest green jeans and a cream top. The door opens and a middle aged man with an impressive beard looks at her, confused. She can tell immediately that he realizes she’s a vampire, but he just asks, “Hello… What do you want?”

          “Hi. Are you Mr. Jones?”

          “Depends on who’s asking.”

          Laura wants to roll her eyes at such a cliché answer. He’s such a country bumpkin, she decides. Plastering on a smile, she holds out her hand. “My name is Laura Hollis and I saw the story on the bears. I was wondering if you’d be willing to talk with me more about it.”

          His eyes narrow with distrust and he grunts, “No. Sorry, kid.”

          She resists the urge to point out that she’s a vampire and remembers that he knows she is, so he’s just being a dick. Still, she’s determined. “Well, would you be able to point out where in the forest you found them?”

          He’s on the verge of closing the door, but squints at her. “You? Why would you-. You know what, never mind. I don’t care or want to know. If it’ll get you to leave, fine. Do you have a map?”

          Laura smiles sweetly and pulls one out of her purse as well as a pen. He has a set scowl on his face as he takes both and joins her on the little porch. She doesn’t miss how he shuts the door behind him. Using one of the square columns to brace on, he skims the map several seconds. She watches him closely, looking for any sign that he might screw her over. He draws a tight circle in the middle of the green forestry and hands both back to her.

          “I didn’t have a map with me, but I estimate that’s where it was.” He enters his house and closes the door, clicking the lock shut.

          Laura rolls her eyes, finally, and returns to her car. Some humans despise vampires for whatever reasons, and she has no time for such idiots. She checks the map; the circle is left to the center of the forest. Looks like she’s going hiking.

          Thirty minutes later, she parks in a designated parking lot for one of the trails. She’s officially on the premises of the Boise National Forest, but nowhere near the spot in the woods. Hanging the permit sign on her rearview mirror, she exits her car and begins walking along the main road. Once she’s gone about a mile, she looks around and ducks into the forest. She takes off running, her vampiric speed causing the map in her hand to flutter about angrily. She pockets it and continues in a westerly direction.

          She hears them first. It’s mid-afternoon when she nears the spot Clint circled. It’s not exactly a crime scene per se, since no humans were murdered. But there are a few park rangers scouring the site, if the shuffling is anything to go by. She crouches low and approaches slowly and silently. She was right – three men in uniform poking around. There’s no sign of the bears, so they must have taken the bodies somewhere to examine more closely.

          Laura doesn’t have to wait long for them to leave. One man complains about hunger and they collectively leave. She waits until they’re out of _her_ earshot and then darts forward. She enters a clearing and immediately inhales. The scent of blood is strong and she can see remnants of stains on the ground. She crouches low and feels the dirt. There’s places where it was kicked up and disturbed – clumps scattered about. There’s also claw marks which seem to have been from the bears. They’re deep and she’s seen bear claws before.

          She scours the area thoroughly, but doesn’t find anything else that’s suspicious other than the obvious – five bears killed in one spot. Checking to make sure she’s alone, Laura strips and bundles her clothes together, and wrapping them with a rubber band she keeps double twisted around her wrist. She usually plans ahead with the shifting since she needs to be naked or her clothes shred to pieces. It seems she forgot in her eagerness to fly out, so she’ll have to carry them in her mouth.

          She shifts quickly and tries to find anything else. Unfortunately, lions aren’t really equipped for tracking like canines. Her sense of smell is extraordinary, but that’s about it.

          Ten minutes later, things take a turn for the better. Literally. The wind direction changes and with it, a new scent passes her. It’s unique and extremely identifiable from the usual musty earthen smells. Following scents in the wind, she can do. Laura determines the direction from which the scent is coming, and picks up her clothes.

          Every now and then she loses the scent and has to backtrack her footsteps. She absently notices the clouds covering the sun and while the forest is already shaded, the temperature drops a few degrees. The lion part of her doesn’t complain at all. She’s covered a couple miles and the scent is becoming increasingly stronger with each step she takes.

          Eventually, she comes across a huge cave, the mouth wide, black and every bit of creepy. Laura grumbles and drops her bundle, scenting the area. Her whiskers twitch as she breathes in the air. The source of the smell is inside the cave, she’s certain. She picks up her clothes and approaches the cave. If she has to guess, one of the dead bears probably lived in here. Her claws scrape on the slate when the dirt gives way. She retracts them and continues on. The dark engulfs her and she’s thankful for the superb night vision.

          After a minute of confident walking, she trips. Of course she does. She trips over a sneaky rock and she huffs in surprise. Her bundle rolls away from her and she hastens to retrieve it. She hasn’t taken two steps when she realizes she’s not alone and it’s too late to put space between herself and the unknown.

          A foot away, something turns towards her – she can’t see it even with her night sight, but she can hear fur move as it shifts to face her. Crouching low, she’s reminded of something in the movies. How when a ball rolls away from a child, the camera focuses on the ball and almost predictably someone stops it. The camera pans upward from the person’s foot to their face. It’s very similar to how she feels now.

          She can barely make out the light cream of her shirt on the ground, something black placed on top of it. She moves her gaze upward, seeing only black until – she gasps.

          Two glowing eyes are looking right at her. They’re white, but have a strange aura about them. The cave is incredibly pitch black, she can’t even make out an outline of whatever – whoever – is in front of her. It’s eerie, just two eyes seemingly floating in the air. It makes her wonder if she’s going bat-crazy. If after five hundred years, she’s finally lost her marbles.

          She growls, a low warning. She can’t communicate with English words, but she figures it’ll get the point across. Her muscles tensed, she wonders if it’s a girl in front of her or something completely different. The eyes seem too large for a teenager, but nothing right now seems normal.

          Her gaze is focused on those eyes and after a few seconds, her chest still rumbling, a voice breaks the otherwise silent cave. “I hear you’ve been looking for me, cutie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys, let me know what you think and please share! I do love hearing what you guys think of my writing, etc. Hope you enjoyed; I really like writing this. Still making most of it up as I go. xoxo didn't really proofread this.


	3. Chapter 3

          Laura stares at the figure, wondering what the hell is going on, because it definitely spoke, but it seemed more like it –

          The eyes, the only thing that’s _not_ pitch black, turn to face what she thinks is left side of the cave. A second later, there’s a lit torch that’s casting an orange glow on the immediate area. She lets out a startled snarl which only deepens when her present company chuckles. She speculates what a man-made torch is even doing in a bear cave. It’s all very suspicious.

          However, with the light, she can see the figure better and – are those horns? Laura grumbles under her breath, her mind racing with questions. Is this the girl – er, panther – that she’s been looking for? Is this _thing_ responsible for the bear attacks? How did it speak to her? And most importantly: what the hell is it?

          She makes no move to communicate with it, opting to just… look and study. It’s a black panther – though Laura knows that that means it’s just a variation of either a leopard or a jaguar and she wonders which it is – and when she takes the time to scent the air, she’s hit with a very distinct female aroma.

          Laura has so many questions, but no way to ask and she’s not about to reveal herself. She lashes her tail in frustration and eyes her bundle of clothes still resting under the panther’s large paw. She slowly moves to her right, prompting the other feline to mirror her so they’re circling each other. Laura is relieved when her clothes aren’t taken.

          A few steps in – she’s only halfway to her bundle – and the voice sounds again. It sounds so real and human-like; she can hear the inflections that only humans or vampires use because she’s certain that animals don’t use sarcasm whilst communicating with each other. And yet, the fine, sensitive hairs in her ears don’t tremor the way they usually do when sound reaches them.

          “I’m curious: what is a lion doing out in the woods of Idaho? Aren’t they indigenous to Africa? And why is she carrying around clothes?”

          Two more steps and Laura’s successfully reached her bundle. She growls, her chest vibrating with the rumbles. She’d tried speaking before, when she first shifted. But all that had come out was an embarrassing mix of meows and moans.

          “But,” the female continues. “You’re not _just_ a lion, are you?”

          Laura narrows her eyes, caught. She’s unsure of what to do – stuck between a rock and a hard place. The panther has a damn smirk on her stupid cat face and Laura makes a snap decision. She snarls and picks up her clothes, backing away steadily until she’s sure that she can’t be seen. The cave is really deep, she realizes. She shifts quickly and sighs when she’s fully clothed. She walks back towards the torch and threads her fingers through her hair.

          She doesn’t give the panther a moment to speak again, jumping right in. “Okay, I’ve got some questions for you, _missy_.” Yes, she’s sassing a panther. “What are you? What are you doing here? Why are your eyes like that? Are those horns real? Did you kill those bears? Are you that girl I saw at my club? How can you talk? What – ” She’s not even done when she’s cut off.

          “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s polite to introduce yourself?”

          Laura watches the cat’s mouth like a hawk but it doesn’t move an inch. What the – .

          “Are you using _telepathy_?”

          “Ding, ding, ding! Look who finally decided to use her brain.”

          Laura is sincerely impressed and awed before she catches herself and shoots back, “Hey, there’s no need to be rude.”

          “Says the girl who asked me seven rather personal questions, none of which were regarding my name,” the cat snarks back.

          “Fine. What is your name?”

          “Please, try to tone down the enthusiasm.”

          “ _Your name_ ,” Laura grits out. God, this girl, panther, whatever is infuriating.

          “Carmilla, sweetheart. Thanks for asking. What’s yours?”

          “Laura Hollis. Now, will you please answer my questions?”

          “I’d love to, but unfortunately, the bear that lives here will be back soon and I’d rather not have to deal with another so soon. I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

          The panther – Carmilla – turns and begins walking away from her. “Wait! How will I find you?”

          “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. The light is so easy to find in the dark.”

          Carmilla breaks into a sprint and is swallowed by the darkness. Laura stands frozen and confused. There’s three things she’s certain of: Carmilla is absolutely maddening, she thinks Laura’s head is pretty, and she says really cryptic things.

          The vampire sighs and with it, relaxes. She didn’t realize she’d been tensed and ready for a fight during the whole encounter. Alone, she pokes around the space and crouches low, tracing the claw marks Carmilla left. Wait. Claw marks? In solid stone? Laura’s list of questions just got bigger, but so did her problems. Her superb hearing picks up the unmistakable shuffling of a bear. She puts its location at a mile away from herself. She thinks back to Carmilla’s words and wonders how she knew about the bear.

          Laura makes her way out of the very long cave tunnel quickly, hoping she meets Carmilla sooner, rather than later. She’s got some questions for her.

* * *

 

**Four months later**

 

          Laura slaps her alarm clock and closes her eyes, reveling the quiet. A sleepy yawn fills her room and warm arms wrap themselves around her waist. “Morning. I had the best night, thanks to you. Feel up for a repeat?”

          _Fuck_. Laura groans and peers beside her. She takes in the mop of blond hair, blue, and the curve of a breast. Her eyes land on the girl’s neck. Twin holes stand out rather prominently, the skin around them swollen and still red. She’d brought Stacey home last night from the club, prompted by a rare desire for fresh blood. The blond was the first person Laura had invited to her home in a very long time.

          “Sorry, Stacey. I’ve got some things to do today. I’ll walk you out.” Laura is a gentlewoman, after all.

          Stacey looks disappointed, but is smart enough to understand that she was just a one night stand. Laura waits patiently for her guest to dress herself and use the restroom. She doesn’t regret the actual act, but she does regret bringing the girl to her home. It tends to give off the wrong message; usually vampires rent out a hotel room if they’re intending to have a fun night. The hotel that neighbors Silas owes most of its business to the club.

          Laura follows the blond to her front door and is surprised when Stacey pulls her close and kisses her softly. “Thanks again, Miss Hollis. I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

          The vampire watches Stacey walk down the sidewalk. Those words reverberate in her mind. They were exactly what Carmilla had said. And yet, four months have passed and Laura has yet to see the panther around. She sighs and returns to her room. It’s just before noon and she does have something to do.

          Twenty minutes later, Laura is dressed and walking out the door. She’s wearing black skinny jeans and her favorite short-sleeved sheer button up with butterflies on it. Butterflies which remind her of that one from the club which reminds her of Carmilla. It’s a never ending loop.

          Laura drives to a small, independently owned flower shop and purchases two modest bouquets of chrysanthemums, placing them carefully on the back seat.

          One hour later, she’s standing in a rural cemetery, looking at three graves. She doesn’t realize she’s not alone until it’s too late.

          “Fancy seeing you here, cupcake.”

          Laura jumps, gripping the bouquets tightly. She’d been lost in her memories. Turning, she nearly jumps again. The words had been _spoken_ for real this time, and it’s clear why. Standing before her is the girl from the club, horns and skull mask and all.

          “Carmilla?”

          “It’s so tragic that someone who’s been around as long as I have can be so utterly dense.”

          She ignores the patronizing tone and drags her eyes down Carmilla’s body. It’s obvious to her now that she’s a vampire. There aren’t any visual cues, it’s just a gut feeling. Standing a foot away, it seems like Carmilla is only an inch taller than Laura, but the skull makes it difficult to be sure. She’s wearing all black – black combat boots, black leather pants, black t-shirt, and a sleeveless black vest. Laura resists the urge to check that she’s not drooling.

          The vest has a hood which is pulled up and over half of the skull. The horns poke through both the skull and hood. While the skull dips down and covers Carmilla’s eyes, Laura has no problem seeing a smirk plastered on those lips, also painted with black lipstick.

          “Did you know the goth fad ended twenty years ago?”

          “I’ve always been a fan of Edgar Allen Poe’s gothic literature,” Carmilla sighs, her voice wistful.

          Laura doesn’t know what to say, so she turns back to the graves and places one bouquet on two of them. She thinks back to her past, her childhood and what memories she has of her parents.

          “How did they die?”

          For some reason, she answers the question, despite how personal it is. “Murdered, by the man who turned me. I was only ten. He took me with him, kept me for nine years before he turned me. He used to feed off of me when he was too lazy to hunt.”

          “Is he dead?”

          She glances at Carmilla who immediately looks away from her, but Laura doesn’t miss the scowl of her lips. It’s as if the girl cares, and it touches Laura. “Yes. When I turned, I escaped and lived on my own. I taught myself how to control my thirst, how to hunt, how to live with what I had become. One hundred years later, I hunted him down and guaranteed his death was slow. I broke his limbs, allowed them to heal and then I broke them again. I stabbed him with a stake on his arms, knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but it’d cause him unbelievable pain. I made sure he regretted ever killing my parents.”

          Laura sinks to her knees and runs her fingers over the tombstones’ engravings. It feels so _good_ to tell someone about her past. Even Mattie, her longtime vampire friend doesn’t know the specifics. “It was a dark time for me. I lost myself then. When I was a child, I used to be so happy and adventurous. After I killed him, I did a lot of things I regret.” She doesn’t expand and Carmilla doesn’t ask. In fact, the girl continues to stand with her arms crossed, the corners of her mouth turned down.

          “Over time, I accepted my fate and I like to think that I’m almost back to my old self. I have friends, own a club, and don’t go on killing rampages anymore.” She wishes she could take back the words. “I’m so sorry, Carm – ”

          Carmilla throws a hand up and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

          Laura shifts so that she’s cross-legged and when her companion doesn’t speak for a long while, she loses herself in her memories again.

          “I didn’t use to be like this.”

          Laura looks over at Carmilla who has situated herself against a random tombstone.

          “I drank some bad blood about eight months ago and it kind of amped me up.”

          “Is that how you can turn into a panther?”

          “No, I’ve been able to do that since I was first turned.” When she decides that Laura isn’t going to say anything else, Carmilla continues, “I didn’t look like this. I didn’t have the horns. I didn’t have the white eyes. I didn’t use to look like a _monster_.”

          Laura hears the minute tremor on the last word, but says nothing. She doubts Carmilla will want pity or something similar.

          “It’s been a blessing and a curse. My five senses have all been increased very significantly. But with it, comes a lot of overload.”

          “That’s what the skull is for,” Laura says, comprehension dawning on her.

          Carmilla nods, “It’s not perfect, but it helps lessen… everything.”

          They fall silent, content to just sit on the grass. For the first time in a long while, Laura doesn’t feel the need to talk.

          Sometime later, someone is nudging her awake. The sun is setting and Carmilla is crouched beside her. “It’s getting late, and I’ve gotta run. Not too many people are comfortable with the whole,” she gestures to her horns.

          “How did you know I would be?”

          “I didn’t.”

          Laura stands and watches Carmilla shove her hands in her vest pockets and walk away. When she checks the area to make sure she has everything, a single white lily is resting in front of a tombstone: **Laura Hollis, beloved daughter 1723-1733**.

* * *

 

**Three months later**

 

          “Refill?” Laura asks, already reaching for both of their glasses.

          “That shit is _good_ ,” Carmilla practically moans, licking her lips. Laura averts her eyes and hurries to the kitchen.

          During the past months, they’ve met more and grown closer. She’d even dare say they were friends. This is how they spend Sunday nights. Laura attends the club every night except Sundays; she allows Matska to manage it properly.

          She decides she has a good blood buzz going, but doesn’t let that stop her from refilling her glass as well. She returns to the living room and hopes Carmilla doesn’t notice her stumble.

          “Drunk already, cutie?”

          She scowls and refuses to reply. She shivers when she hands Carmilla a glass and their fingers brush. God, can her life get any more cliché? Laura sits beside her _friend_ , tucking one leg under the other. They’re watching Twilight: New Moon because Carmilla absolutely loves mocking every part of it. Bella and Edward are kissing, very awkwardly in Laura’s opinion.

          “Carm?”

          The girl hums, attention glued to the television screen.

          “Do you ever take off the skull?”

          Carmilla’s hand halts halfway to her mouth, popcorn in hand. She turns to look at the honey blond and asks, “Why are you asking?”

          She’s not sure if it’s the blood buzz, or the movie, or the lit candles, but Laura mumbles, “It must be difficult to kiss someone.” As soon as the words are out, she closes her eyes and blushes fiercely. Contrary to popular belief, vampires do have blood circulating through their veins.

          She can hear very soft sounds coming from Carmilla moving, but she’s a little scared to see what’s happening, as much as she hates to admit it.

          “I wouldn’t know; I haven’t tried since I changed.” She can _feel_ the words on her lips and she gasps. She knows that Carmilla must have taken off the skull because there’s no way she could be this close and not have the nose of the skull touching her.

          She has no warning, but really, it’s her fault. Impossibly soft lips press against hers and her sharp inhale is stolen. She opens her eyes because she has to see what Carmilla looks like and she’s floored. She literally falls off the couch and onto the floor. Then Carmilla opens her eyes and Laura thinks she should just stay on the floor, no danger of anymore falling.

          When she was a panther, Carmilla’s eyes were white, but now in her human form, they’re the usual crimson red of vampires. She’s beautiful and Laura is glad she doesn’t need oxygen because she’s pretty sure her breath was just taken away. A thought occurs to her.

          “Wait, what about the sensory overload stuff? I don’t want you to get a headache.”

          Carmilla shakes her head, “I’ll be okay. Something about you makes it hurt less.”

          Once she deems Carmilla’s telling the truth, Laura takes her offered hand and sits again on the couch. She leans forward to reconnect their lips, but a hand gently stops her. She’s flustered and thinks that maybe she read it all wrong.

          “Slow down, cupcake.” The same hand holds on to her wrist. “I just want to show you something before we continue. It’s uh, important to me.”

          Curiosity sufficiently piqued, Laura takes Carmilla’s phone and turns it towards her. She bites her lip to hold in a gasp. It’s a picture of Carmilla, before the change. She looks exactly like the one in front of her, but without the horns. She has her usual frown, but Laura doesn’t care.

          “Carm, it’s… You’re gorgeous.”

          “ _Was_ , creampuff.”

          Laura puts the phone on the table and takes her friend’s face into her hands, rubbing her thumbs over glorious cheekbones. “No. This you is so amazing and I can’t say how grateful and lucky I am to have met you, to become friends with you.”

          Carmilla doesn’t say anything, just looks deep into Laura’s eyes. Laura has never seen the girl look so vulnerable. She moves closer and kisses her, slow and deep.

          Suddenly, she finds herself lying flat on her back, looking up into dark, pupil blown eyes. It takes barely a second and then they’re kissing again, tongues rubbing along each other and she moans loudly at the tingles that shoot up her body. She slides her hands down and grope Carmilla’s ass through her leather pants while at the same time, Carmilla tangles her hands in Laura’s hair. She places kisses up and down Carmilla’s neck, enjoying the way the hand in her hair flexes and pulls.

          She’s just about to move her hands up to cup Carmilla’s breasts when she yawns. In the middle of making out. Horrified, she covers her face and Carmilla’s chuckles fill her ears. “Oh my god,” she mumbles.

          “Looks like someone’s sleepy,” Carmilla drawls. “Come on, your bed is way more comfy than the couch.”

          She’s honestly relieved when they slip under the covers and Carmilla wraps an arm possessively around her waist. She needs time to process the whole I-kissed-my-friend-and-totally-loved-it thing. Definitely not regretting it, but definitely needing the breather.

          Laura smiles at the feel of Carmilla kissing her bare shoulder. “Thanks, Carm.” The unspoken part about understanding goes without saying. “I meant what I said; I’m so glad I met you.” She yawns again and is well on her way to sleep, but doesn’t miss Carmilla’s reply.

          “I wouldn’t have been able to stay away if I tried. You’re the light and you’re so easy to find in my world of darkness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I had set up Laura to be 500 years, but didn’t factor in the whole human race technology aspect, so pretend the 2200s are modern day. Sorry about the non-smut, I just didn’t think it was the right time. If you’re craving it, read my other Hollstein story hehe. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, and given kudos. It really means a lot to me and I’m so glad you all have enjoyed it! Til next time, xoxo


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